


Dr. Crane  EZ-AU

by chrlew42



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Other, rogues - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 18:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28764729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrlew42/pseuds/chrlew42
Summary: Dr. Crane's Class - f* around and find out
Relationships: None
Kudos: 3





	Dr. Crane  EZ-AU

**Author's Note:**

> c/w humiliation

“Excuse me Professor Ichabod? This is stuff we learned in Middle School, Do we need to go over it again?”

Dr. Crane stopped writing on the white board… Row 3, seat 22… Gelotophobia and… yes.

“Ya may have covered ‘This Stuff’ **Mistah** Jonahs.. But this is just the first brick in tha foundation.. Ah need ta make sure it’s set correctly to properly build out the rest of what’s ta come...”

He turns around and a few steps carries him to the lectern. The whoosh of his camel corduroys the only sound as he moved. His arms cross as he uses the lectern to support his weight. One could almost imagine him disappearing behind the thin desk. As Impressively tall as he was, he was also as impressively under weight. He could be described as all knees and elbows, but that would be a mistake. There was something in his bearing that demanded a focused attention. There was a predator in the room and some primal part of the class’ brains recognized it.

The Students called him Prof. Ichabod behind his back because of his resemblance to that literary icon. It was a name he was used to hearing as an insult for most of his life. It was low hanging fruit. This class was seen as a weed class. Not because it was particularly difficult, and every student eval agreed that Dr. Crane was completely fair and a good professor. It just seemed a handful of students every class would just up and quit their program without warning.

He takes a deep breath as if he’s been asked to tell a story he’s told a million times and he’s lost any enthusiasm for telling it. “Now, “ he runs his long fingers through his mousey brown mop of hair, “ Mistah Jonahs, I undahstand how someone with, uh, Your education might see this as elementary. Ah need ya to undahstand and respect that some of your peers might not have had your benefit.”

His long fingers now petting the skeleton of a coiled viper sitting on his lectern. One of a dozen such physical representations of humanities fascination with primal fear.

“Ah know how hard it is for someone with your, uh, patience to wait for everyone to catch up. So Ah’ll ask nicely the first time ta not refer to me by anything from the Irving story. Ya might think Y’all’re funny but I’ve heard them all and y’all’re just being tired…Give respect to tha room, and me, and we’ll move as quickly through this as we can.. “

He turned to resume writing the terms he wanted them to understand on the board. The sound of a horse’s whinney and the clopping of hooves from some web soundboard and the light nervous laughter spread through the class. Tom Johnas was grinning as if he had just spiked the ball to pull ahead in the game.

Crane’s head tilted to glance over his shoulder, pen still to the whiteboard. He dropped his hands into the pockets of his worn tweed jacket and sighed again. They weren’t going to get anywhere today until this was dealt with.

“Mistah Jonahs, we seem to be at odds.. Why are you taking this class? “  
“It’s a requirement for my program, I don’t need it myself… I’m going into my dad’s practice in Star City, we don’t deal with this abnormal psychology stuff.” The slightly jocky young man leaned back in his chair, arms behind his head as if he were settling in to engage with a particularly entertaining piece of media.

Crane nods sagely as if he’s coming to understand and agree with a hypothesis he hasn’t shared yet.

“Fear, uh, isn’t ‘Abnormal’. It’s something humanity has experienced throughout our entire existence. Fear is, perhaps, one of the strongest motivators we experience as a species. We are still learnin’ how we can use it to push us forward rather than hold us back.”

“Now, Ah know your type Mistah Jonahs. You have a small fear you’re not as smart as you think you are… so you challenge authority in places you think ya have a strong understanding.. Ta prove yourself. Y’all’re using fear productively to try to improve yourself. I can respect that. What I can’t tolerate is the fear that you’re not good enough that causes ya to interrupt the progress of your peers. Keeping ya in the lead in whatever game you’re scoring in your head… I suspect your successful Father pitted you against a more talented younger brother?” He doesn’t let Tom affirm or deny the diagnosis, that’s not what he was looking for.

The mood in the room changed. The predator was engaged in a hunt and the class could feel it. Tom Jonahs was sitting up straighter, he didn’t understand why the hairs on the back of his neck suddenly spiked. The oxygen must have been sucked from the room because everyone was holding their breath. Crane paced the room, a lion in his den.

Dr. Crane removes one hand from his pocket for a sweeping gesture of his little treasures scattered about the room and begins listing their related phobias and how they kept the species safe even when they don’t make sense in the modern day.

As he reaches the spider poster on the far side of the room, “Finally we reach Arachnophbia… the fear of spiders…” his other hand shoots out of his pocket and flings something golfball sized, black, and hairy. The shriek that emits from Tom Johahs is high and loud and sounds almost operatic. The stuffed fuzzy ball plinks softly on his chest and drops into his now damp lap. After the start, the entirety of the class erupted in laughter… some to release tension, some due to schadenfreude.

“Well class, it looks like ya get ta go home early thanks to Mistah Jonah’s contribution.. I’ll post this lecture as a video on yer Blackboard site. Note the terms in particular. There Will be a quiz. Janice, will ya be a dear and let maintenance know that we had a… biologic incident in Dr. Crane’s classroom on your way ta yer next class? Thanks… “

Tom Jonah did not make the rest of his classes… he dropped from the program the next morning and presumably went home.


End file.
